


Alright, Alright

by shippingParaphernalia



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 'I'm John Laurens in the Place To Be', Alexander is selfish, And prideful, AngeHam, Angelica/Laurens friendship sort of, Eliza is too lucky, Eye description is involved, I have no idea what to call the Angelica/Hamilton ship, I love describing eyes, I posted one of these stories before but hey why not, Is that a thing, Lams - Freeform, Laurens might wanna lay off the drinks, Multi, Not exactly though, Oblivious Alexander, One-sided Lams, Sad Angelica, Sad Laurens, Sort of a sequel to my other work, Two-Shot, Wedding, drunk laurens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9439916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingParaphernalia/pseuds/shippingParaphernalia
Summary: Everyone looked over at him, but Laurens was quick to drag their attention back to the couple of honor with a huge sweeping gesture. 'That's what I'm talkin' about!'Hamilton smiled. 'You’re drunk, Laurens.'At this, a few people laughed good-naturedly, but Laurens pretended to ignore them. He flashed everyone a large, friendly grin-- the six brews he'd consumed beforehand gave this performance much more conviction.'Now everyone give it up for the maid of honor… Angelica Schuyler!'[In which Laurens has a drink too many, and Angelica's smile seems a tad fixed. Also, that above thing actually does feature this time. Whoo!]Comments are better than kudos, and appreciated! <3





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know my 'I'm John Laurens in the Place to Be' fic-thing is kind of similar to this, but I had this one all planned out and everything and didn't have the heart to scrap it ;w;  
> I know this one isn't as fluffy or as good as the other one but... well, it's late and I'm tired, okay? -w-''  
> I'll edit it tomorrow.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the ramble.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Georgie
> 
> ***

When you love someone, you give a part of yourself to them to do with as they will.

Some choose to keep this part and cherish it. That's when love flourishes.

Some choose to meddle and toy with it. That's when love starts to stutter to a stop, starts to halt in its flowering.

Some even choose to break it. They tear it from thread to thread whether by accident or purpose, and claim that's just how things work. That's when love ceases to exist.

John Laurens didn't give 'a part' of himself to Alexander Hamilton.

He handed over every fiber of his being, and prayed that the outcome wouldn't hurt too much. And his pleas were answered, in however a twisted and mocked manner--- The outcome didn't hurt. It shattered.

Hamilton's wedding was, by far, the single most torturous thing Laurens had ever had to live through-- and he had managed to live through beatings from his father, pressure from his family, and a name to uphold that he hated. 

The worst part?

Alexander hadn't just ended up with some random nobody Laurens could afford to hate. He had married someone perfect for him in every way imaginable, someone Laurens couldn't even dream of competing with.

Eliza was beautiful. She was trusting. She was kind. She had that coolheaded temperament needed to soothe the fireball known as Alexander Hamilton and the patience of a saint, if not an angel.

Worst (or best, depending on how one looked at it) of all, she was a woman.

Sometimes, John Laurens hated himself. And today was one of those times.

As promised, Laurens had made sure Hamilton survived the ceremony without fainting, but after all that was over, unable to stand the looks of love being exchanged, he left for the wedding's bar booth thing (did those things even have names?) with the feeble excuse of 'checking there were enough shots to go around, ahaha.'

God, he was pathetic. He was a slaver's sinner of a son sitting in the corner, stirring his fifth cup absently and staring at the groom with undisguised longing. Talk about a fraud.

But what else was he to do?

"Isn't this a wonderful wedding?" A new face had appeared before him. After a few minutes of hazy recollecting (drinking while hungover was a really bad idea after all), Laurens was able to place her as the first sister he had laid eyes on. Angelica, he was pretty sure her name was. 

"Lovely," he said. Thickly.

Angelica cast a glance at the cup in his hand. Then at the other four next to it. "I heard you helped plan some things. So did I."

"Lovely," Laurens repeated.

"Yes. Well. I'm the maid of honor, and that is, of course, my little sister I'm giving away. And your best friend for you. We need to make sure they get nothing less than the best, don't you agree?"

"Alexander is my best friend," Laurens nodded, his five drinks making a mess of the name. "Eliza is really lucky to have him."

"I know." The wistfulness in Angelica's tone reminded Laurens a lot of himself. He squinted at her, trying to bring her blurry frame more into focus.

"You can sit down if you want," he offered. "I’ll buy you a drink."

"Oh no, I couldn't." Angelica's smile seemed a tad fixed to Laurens. Once again, an image of himself came to mind. "I must go and propose a toast to the newly wed pair."

"Ah, right," Laurens said. He downed the cup he was holding. "Sounds nice. 'm sure you'll be great. Make sure to call me when you do, I think it's my job to do your introduction."

Angelica laughed. Slightly. “I'll make sure. Also, it may not be my place to tell you so, but I think you’ve had more than enough drinks for the night.”

“No, I’ve got this,” Laurens slurred. The world was slowly starting to tip around him. “I’ve… I’ve had more before.”

“You don’t want to miss out on celebrating, surely?”

“A little bit,” Laurens admitted. Now that his drinks were slowly starting to catch up with his words, he saw no need for lying. Meanwhile, Angelica Schuyler’s face was a blur in the distance, while her voice was all too loud for his ears.

“You’re the best man,” she said. A little disapproving. “What will Alexander think if his best man ends up inebriated?”

“He won’t mind. I was drunk yesterday too.”

Angelica shook her head. “How redeeming.”

“Thanks.” He reached out to pour himself another glass, but stopped when he saw the bottle empty. “Aww, really now?”

“I’m going to make my toast,” Angelica said loudly. Like he was deaf instead of drunk. “You should come.”

“Might as well,” Laurens shrugged. “Bottle’s out. Just wait a mo...”

He slid out of his seat, hiccuping. Angelica patiently waited for him to remember how to stand up, then sighed and hurried off to the stage as Laurens grabbed his empty cup. _If I can get a refill, that'd be great. Six cups aren't nearly enough to cover this occasion._

He scanned the crowd for Alexander. The latter wasn’t hard to spot. If he had to, John Laurens could distinguish him from a thousand other look-alikes with all the weeks of secret-staring practice that he'd had. 

Sure enough, Hamilton was talking to Eliza. A friendly crowd seemed to be gathered about. Most of them were comprised of couples, Laurens noted a little bitterly. _They're all probably talking about their own perfect, totally normal weddings._

As soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt guilty. It wasn't their fault he was unnatural. Maybe if he hung around them enough, some of their normality would rub off on him. Maybe he'd finally be attracted to that Martha Manning girl he knew he was supposed to be. Maybe he could make his family proud for once. Maybe... Maybe Alexander's face wouldn't look like the sun every time he stared at it: Searing with confidence, radiance and warmth.

Laurens stumbled over to them, trying to shake his head clear of thought. He needed to focus. Angelica was right; today was a special day. He couldn’t afford to mess it up just because for once in his life he hadn't gotten what he'd wanted.

_For Alexander._

"Alright, alright!" he called out. Everyone looked over at him, but Laurens was quick to drag their attention back to the couple of honor with a huge sweeping gesture. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

Hamilton smiled. "You're drunk, Laurens."

At this, a few people laughed good-naturedly, but Laurens pretended to ignore them. He flashed everyone a large, friendly grin-- the six brews he'd consumed beforehand gave this performance much more conviction.

“Now everyone," he boomed, drawling out the word 'everyone' with typical drunken blunder, "Give it up for the maid of honor… Angelica Schuyler!”

Angelica acknowledged her applause with a graceful nod and smile. She started announcing her toast, but Laurens couldn't pay attention. Nearby, Eliza leaned into her husband affectionately, and Hamilton slid a comforting arm around her. They shared a look. 

Laurens' smile hitched.

_Alright, alright!_

Hamilton stroked her hair. He looked so happy, like he'd finally found what he was looking for all these years. Like he was finally satisfied.

_Alright, alright._

Laurens tried to look away, but found himself unable. His eyes had followed Alexander like a sunflower chasing sunlight from the start, and they weren't going to stop now. 

_Alright._

As if feeling his eyes on him, Hamilton looked up. Straight at Laurens. Their gazes locked, and for once, Laurens wasn't the one to look away first. Maybe it was the realization that it didn't matter how much he stared now, maybe it was the six drinks. Whatever the case, for a minute there was no one else but the two of them in the room. Mesmerized.

Alexander truly had beautiful eyes. Blue like the sky, endless like his words.

God, his words. Laurens had heard him say a lot of those. Words of anger, words of complaint, words of humor. But he had never heard him say words of passion.

He had never heard him say 'I love you.'

And now, he never would.

_I'm alright._

Laurens looked away.

 


End file.
